


The Best Parts of Ourselves

by aban_ataashi



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Gen, because i guess thats my thing now, flower symbolism, flowers and friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 21:17:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17312024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aban_ataashi/pseuds/aban_ataashi
Summary: “What, you’re going to save the world with rose blossoms?”“I just might. You never know.”





	The Best Parts of Ourselves

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I wrote this story for the prompt "Making" from PoE weekly prompts. Enjoy!

The soil underneath Desta’s hands was cool and natural, and she smiled at the familiarity of it. Caed Nua was amazing, certainly, but she could only take so many ghosts and memories and magical anomalies before she wanted something simpler. A nice garden was exactly what this place needed.

“What are you doing in this mud pit?”

Desta looked up to see Hiravias watching her with amusement. “Is this some kind of…” he wiggled his fingers at her godlike form, “you know, _changeling_ thing? You have to roll in dirt every now and then? I can’t believe I wasn’t invited!”

In response, Desta flicked a bit of fresh mud in his direction. “I would think a druid of all people would recognize a garden.”

Hiravias wiped the mud from his cheek and looked at the ground appraisingly. “A garden has to have _things_ in it, you know. Things that are actually growing.”

“And it _will._ I just have to plant them first.”

“Can’t the Steward get it whipped into shape for you? Isn’t that the point of this creepy magic castle?”

“Some things are better done yourself. Without magic,” Desta said firmly. “It will be worth it, you’ll see. Once all the flowers come in-”

“Flowers?” Hiravias cocked his head. “You’re not even going to plant useful things? Medicine? Food?”

“Oh, I’ll plant those, too,” Desta said with a dismissive wave. “But we’re going to need flowers. You’ll see.”

“What, you’re going to save the world with rose blossoms?”

“I just might. You never know.”

“Sure,” Hiravias said, although he didn’t sound convinced. “Well, it should make the place a little less gloomy, at least. Before they all wilt and die when the frost comes. And then you can do it all again in the spring.”

“Aren’t druids supposed to like nature? Didn’t your clan keep gardens?”

“My clan lived in a bog.”

Desta frowned. “Bad example. Just trust me, okay?”

Hiravias shrugged. “Still don’t see the point, but as long as we’re not diving into the cellar of undead horrors, knock yourself out.”

 

It was three days after finding Eder’s brother’s helmet that Desta made the first flower crown.

Her little garden was coming along nicely, with a rainbow of blooms sprouting stubbornly through the cold Dyrwood rains. She studied the plants thoughtfully, picking some familiar flowers she’d seen in the Gilded Vale and some new ones she’d acquired through trade.

The result was a clash of colors- pink hyacinths, white calla lilies, bright yellow daffodils- and Eder laughed with incredulous delight when she held it out to him.

“Am I supposed to wear this into battle?” he asked, holding the crown aloft.

Desta shrugged. “Only if you really want to,” she said. “It’s just that… well, the weather’s been a bit dreary lately, hasn’t it? I thought perhaps you could use something bright.”

Eder considered that for a moment. “Huh. Reckon you might have a point there.” He walked over to the shelf where he’d set his brother’s helmet and positioned the crown around the metal base. He smiled, and there was an easiness to it that Desta hadn’t seen since they’d dug the helmet from the dirt.

“Yeah. That’s kinda nice.”

 

Kana liked the crowns, and it wasn’t long before he insisted Desta teach him the practice. They sat together in her garden, and she showed him the movements required to weave the stems and leaves and petals into a new creation.

“This is harder than it looks,” he commented, studying the tangled twigs he’d been attempting to ravel together. “I believe my fingers are better suited to turning pages. Perhaps I should stick to songs and history.”

“You just need practice,” Desta assured him. She leaned over and set a small crown on his brow- a simple braided band of green ivy bearing sprigs of purple aster and springberry. “And then you can return to Rautai and teach all of your philosopher and aristocrat friends the dignified craft of weed-weaving.”

“I may have better luck with that than with any of my research,” Kana joked, but Desta could sense the worry weighing down on his shoulders.

“Don’t give up just yet. You may not have found exactly what you wanted, but what you did find is still pretty impressive. And I’m not just talking about the flowers.”

“I suppose that’s true. I’ve learned more in a month here than I did in all my years back home.” Kana smiled, and then laughed in triumph as he at last managed to complete the small loop of vines he’d been working on. He held it up to Desta with a grin. “And perhaps I’m getting the hang of this, as well.”

 

Aloth wasn’t an easy person to sneak up on; Desta had to wait until he was completely absorbed in his grimoire.

“Aloth?” she said once she’d crept up behind him, and as he lifted his gaze to answer she plopped the crown on top of his head. The expression on his face was worth the wait.

He blinked in surprise and plucked the crown from his hair. He regarded it in silence for a moment- it was a fairly simple crown, decorated with sprigs of lavender and interwoven with small daisies just beginning to bloom. At last, he spoke hesitantly. “Is it my turn now?” He ran his hand over the flowers, still looking baffled. “…thank you?”

“You’re welcome!” Desta said happily. “I thought the colors would look nice on you. I think I was right.”

A small smile crept onto Aloth’s face, and he placed the crown back on his head. “Well, I can’t promise it’s going to become a new staple of my wardrobe, but it is lovely.”

“High praise coming from the _fashionable Aedyran wizard,”_ Desta said, lilting her voice into a poor imitation of Aloth. He smirked at her attempt of his accent, and Desta laughed. “If you think that was bad, you don’t even want to hear my Iselmyr. How are the two of you doing, by the way?”

Aloth tilted his head, considering. “Better, I think. I have to admit, she’s proving to be more cooperative than I first expected.”

“I’m happy to hear it. I think it’ll do the two of you some good to work together.” Desta reached over to straighten Aloth’s crown, her lips pursing thoughtfully. “I suppose I should make Iselmyr her own crown. What kind of flowers does she like?”

Aloth’s expression shifted. “ _Yer  frilly red ’uns are right bonnie!”_

Desta was still trying to parse the words as Aloth regained himself. He saw her confused expressions and clarified. “I believe she likes the red chrysanthemums.”

“Perfect! One chrysanthemum crown, coming up.”

 

Three crowns were begun and abandoned before Desta could finally hold on to the memory of the Grieving Mother long enough to complete one. She presented it quickly, before the thought could once again fade away.

The Grieving Mother took it hesitantly, her fingers brushing against the soft white petals as if afraid they would crumble under her touch. “What is this for?”

“I thought you’d like it,” Desta said gently. Ever since she’d refused to cleanse The Grieving Mother of her memories, the woman had been… not _cold,_ really, but _distant._ Even more distant than usual, which for the ghost-like cipher was an impressive feat.

Desta reached between the snowdrops and sprigs of Berath’s bell to retrieve one of the dandelions she’d delicately placed on the top of the crown. “Here. Make a wish.”

The Grieving Mother blinked at the flower, but after a few long moments leaned forward and blew softly. Her breath was just enough to send the dandelions seeds scattering into the wind above their heads. The Grieving Mother watched the seeds fly away, an unreadable expression on her face. “I hope it comes true.”

“It will,” Desta replied. She didn’t know for sure what the Grieving Mother had wished for, but she had her suspicions. “I’m sure of it.”

 

Desta had never known how to talk to Durance. After the disastrous conversation with gods, where he’d engaged in a one-sided rage against Magran, she knew even less what to say to him.

He was horrible. That much Desta couldn’t deny. But seeing him so thoroughly rejected by the god he’d dedicated his life to still sent a pang of sympathy through her heart.

She threaded together a circlet of blooms from her garden, roses in shades of reds and yellows and oranges that she thought he might enjoy. She didn’t say anything about it; conversations with Durance inevitably ended in insults and frustration. Instead, she simply left it in his room at Caed Nua, hoping he would understand the unspoken… support? Peace offering? Desta honestly wasn’t so sure herself.

Days went by with no acknowledgement from Durance. At last, Desta peeked inside his room once more. In the place where she had left the flowers, only a pile of ash remained.

Desta didn’t try again.

 

“And what are these called?”

“ _Zinnia,”_ Desta answered. “They’re pretty, aren’t they?”

“And so many colors,” Sagani mused. She was quiet for a moment as she fingered the bright flowers on her crown. “There’s nothing like this back home. I might actually miss it when I go back.”

“You’ll have to take some back with you. Along with some dragon scales, some of those potions we found at Concelhaut’s…”

“Trophies?”

“Mementos. To back up all the amazing stories you’ll be telling,” Desta said. She chewed thoughtfully on her lips as she straightened the row of flowers on Sagani’s head- purple, red, yellow, pink, all bold and bright. The cheerful colors contrasted with the pensive look on Sagani’s face.

“I’ve been gone so long,” she sighed. “Things are going to be different when I return.”

“Maybe. Probably.” Desta wasn’t sure what she could say to comfort Sagani. The nostalgia in her voice whenever she spoke of her home, of her family… Desta had never felt anything like that. She’d left her own home long ago and felt no grief over it. “Different doesn’t need to mean bad, does it? Think of all that you’ve seen, and done, and learned. You’re going to do great things when you get back home. Just like Persoq.”

That made Sagani smile. “And then maybe some day another hunter will go out looking for my reincarnated soul, to tell me about my adventures and accomplishments.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised at all.”

“But before all of that… I’m going to give my kids a big hug. I can’t wait to see them again.”

Desta smiled and nodded, trying not to show the strange, sad longing that gripped her chest at those words. “You’ll have to bring them some flowers. And tell them I said hello.” Desta looked down, suddenly self-conscious.“… I don’t really know what it’s like to have a family, but I’m glad you’ll be returning to yours. Even if it means I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”

Sagani chuckled. She plucked one of the flowers from her crown and, standing on her tiptoes, tucked it into Desta’s hair. “I’ll miss you, too. And don’t be silly- a family is just people who care about you. Of course you have that.”

 

It took a bit of convincing, but at last Pallegina acquiesced to Desta’s pleas to just _try on_ her flower crown.

She placed it on her head with little fanfare, glancing grumpily at Desta as she did so. The tulips hung heavy over her forehead, pinks and purples bringing out the colors of her feathers. “There. I tried it. May I remove it now?”

Desta sighed. “I just wanted you to give it a chance. I think it looks good on you. But yes, you can take it off.”

“ _Agracima.”_ Pallegina immediately tugged the crown from her head. Seeing Desta’s face fall, she mustered an apologetic smile. “I do appreciate the gesture. But it’s not part of my uniform.”

“Nobody is going to report to your ducs that you’ve been wearing flowers.”

“Hmph. I should hope not. They’ll be upset enough over the negotiations.”

“They’ll get over it,” Desta said with more confidence than she truly felt.  From what she had seen of the ducs so far, Pallegina had the right of it- they would be _very_ upset at having their orders ignored.  But Desta had to hope that after their initial anger they would see that Pallegina was right.

Pallegina made a noncommittal noise, but the tension in her shoulders did seem to ease at Desta’s reassurance. She sighed and traced a finger over the petals of the tulips in her hands. “I hope I won’t regret what I’ve done.”

“You did what you believed was right,” Desta replied. “You should never regret that.”

“That, I will agree with.” Pallegina smiled. She turned the crown in her hands for a moment, then set her chin and placed it back on her head. “I suppose I can wear it for _one_ day.”

 

The last crown was the one Desta worked on the longest, picking out only the biggest and brightest flowers to be saved and added to the final product. It was a thing of glory, if she said so herself- roses that had overshot red and landed on a striking orange, vibrant marigolds, and even a couple of white lotus blossoms that Desta had managed to coax into blooming. Autumn leaves were beginning to cover the ground, and she collected some of the fallen foliage to weave into the base.

Hiravias often came to the garden to watch her work on it. He often chattered as they sat together, filling the hours with stories about his previous adventures or musings to Wael or the latest gossip on the other companions. As Desta finally neared completion on the crown, however, he was uncharacteristically silent.

“What’s on your mind?” Desta asked as she tucked in the final flowers. “Usually I couldn’t pay you to be quiet.”

“Not with money at least. Gotta be more creative than that,” he said with a grin, although his voice lacked his usual crack of wit. He shrugged. “Just thinking about the other piece of my soul out there, I guess. Wondering whether it was smart to let him go.”

“If it makes any difference, I think you did good,” Desta said with firm certainty. She looked up from her crafting to meet Hiravias’s eyes. “It takes a certain kind of strength to walk away from a fight. A lot of people choose to settle their problems with violence because it’s… easier, in its own way. It’s harder sometimes to look for something better. But you worked for an ending that was a little more peaceful, and I think your soul is better for it.” She grinned playfully. “And I’m a Watcher, so I should know what I’m talking about.”

Hiravias nods. “I suppose that’s true. Leaping to fight any old fool who challenges you doesn’t provide much opportunity for growth, does it?” He paused, and looked around him at the scenery. “Speaking of growth, your garden’s not looking half bad.”

“I know. And now for the _crowning_ achievement,” Desta smiled at her own joke and held the finished flower crown aloft. Hiravias let out a low whistle.

“Nice. Who’s that for?”

“You, of course,” Desta said with an eyeroll as she held the crown out to Hiravias.

He blinked in surprise and lifted his good eyebrow. “Hey, aren’t I handsome enough already? Besides, something like that should go to the gardener, shouldn’t it?”

“I was thinking it should go to the person who magicked all these flowers into being.” Desta couldn’t but help but laugh at the guilty expression on Hiravias’s face. “Come on, did you seriously think I wouldn’t notice? At first I thought it was the Steward, but she didn’t touch the gardens after I told her not to. So I had to think… who knows a bit of nature magic and has a problem following rules?”

“You don’t _know_ any magic was involved-” Hiravias stuttered, but Desta just pointed to one of the flowers on the crown.

“That’s a lotus blossom, Hiravias. In autumn. In the _Dyrwood._ I’m not stupid.”

A flush colored Hiravias’s cheeks. “Fine. I helped with your flowers. It’s not a big deal.”

“And I made you a flower crown. Not a big deal.” Desta held the crown out once again, and Hiravias at last begrudgingly took it and placed it on his head.

He struck an over-exaggerated pose, turning the scarred side of his face towards Desta. “Do I still look fearsome?”

“Absolutely terrifying,” Desta promised. “Now come use your intimidating druid magic to help me with the orchids.”


End file.
